Madara's Secret Hobby
by 0-bito
Summary: Just a short drabble I wrote based on a headcanon I had in mind... Madara is caught with a notebook, always scribbling something inside of it. He never tells Hashirama what's inside, and Hashirama becomes curious. What could the notebook contain?


That book.

Hashirama watched as Madara stored away a small notebook into the lower drawer of the night stand. What was in it? Hashirama caught Madara a few times alone with this book, scribbling inside it. Whenever Hashirama would come around, he would store it away in the lower drawer or hide it behind him and pretend it didn't even exist. Once, Hashirama tried asking what the notebook contained, but Madara simply ignored him and walked away. Could it be a journal? Hashirama found it quite hard to believe Madara wrote in a journal.

However, it's possible.

Maybe he wrote about Hashirama in there. Good things. _Bad_ things.

He tried thinking about what the journal could possibly contain before drifting off into sleep.

The next morning, Hashirama decided to spend his time straightening up the bedroom while Madara went off for another walk. Hashirama was cleaning the nightstand when -

"Oops!"

He knocked over something with his elbow. _What's this?_ He paused and looked down at the object lying on the floor. It was a notebook - _the_ notebook - lying on the floor, open, it's pages against the ground so Hashirama could only see the front and back cover. _Madara forgot to bring his book?_ Hashirama stared at it. _Or did he leave it here deliberately?_ It wasn't stored away in the lower drawer, like usual, and it wasn't with Madara. Those are usually the only places the notebook could be found. _Madara must have forgotten it._

But what should he do now? He couldn't touch it. He wasn't even allowed to go near it. Should he just leave it there? What's in it, anyway? What made it so sacred? A mischievous thought pushed its way forward into his mind. _It wouldn't hurt to peek at one page, would it?_ _Madara wouldn't know_. No. He pushed the thought away to the back of his mind. _No_, he told himself. _It's wrong to invade someone's privacy._

However, the thought was persistent. It continued to push it's way forward into his mind, demanding to be heard. _It's just one peek. It wouldn't hurt_._ He wouldn't even know. Just a quick glance and then you will put it away, pretend you did not see it_. He shifted uncomfortably, still remaining in the same place.

What should he do?

Hashirama leaned over and pinched the book between his fingers. He lifted it up, holding it out before him, eyes closed as if he weren't worthy of looking at it, let alone being in it's presence.

_Come on. Just one peek._

Hashirama slowly opened one eye, glancing at the contents of the book.

_What?_ He opened his eyes completely and pulled the book closer. There was a drawing of an animal. Hashirama recognized this animal - it was a falcon. _Beautiful!_ The animal was drawn perfectly with such detail. It was carefully shaded in various shades of black, all in the correct areas. There was value and depth in this drawing, making it seem real as if it were a captured image of the creature. He hesitated, then flipped to the next page. There was a drawing of a faceless figure, arm outstretched with a falcon resting on it's gloved hand. _This is amazing work!_ He smiled to himself and flipped through the pages, quickly yet carefully, using his thumb. All of the remaining pages were filled with detailed drawings of falcons. To think Madara excelled at drawing!

"This is impressive," he mumbled to himself in astonishment. Why did Madara keep his talent a secret? There was nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone would find this impressive. Hashirama would love to watch him draw these amazing pictures, see how it's all done.

Suddenly, he felt a presence at the door. Hashirama quickly looked over his shoulder, but his eyes met no one. _What am I doing? I shouldn't be searching through this book! _Hashirama shoved the book in the lower drawer, very quickly, as if he committed a crime.

Though, invading someone's privacy was just as bad as a crime in his mind. He felt ashamed for looking through the book as he continued cleaning the room.

That night, Hashirama walked into the room and found Madara sitting on the bed, near the nightstand. Hashirama's heart tightened within his chest as his eyes locked with Madara's. He smiled sheepishly and walked further into the room, avoiding his cold stare. Hashirama slipped into bed, lying on his side, Madara following shortly after. Madara moved in close behind Hashirama, wrapping his arms around his body, hands moving along his chest.

_Does Madara know?_

Madara leaned in, brushing his lips against Hashirama's neck.

_I don't think so. He would have said something by now._

Hashirama smiled as Madara planted a deep kiss on his neck. Then, with his lips brushing against his ear, Madara whispered in a voice Hashirama could have easily mistaken for Death's,

"Touch my belongings again, sneaky Senju, and I will cut off your hair while you sleep."

Hashirama's body tensed, his face burning._ Oh, no.  
_  
Madara moved away to the other side of the bed.

"Good night, Hashirama."


End file.
